XVII

“Dada,” Andras says, holding his daughter's hand. “You seem to forget, but you took her down as a three-year-old, and that was without having the power you do now, plus most of her power. She may get stronger every time that you do, but that’s only one fourth of the power she used to have. You can take her—”

“But how?” Sauda asks, squeezing his hand tight. “How did I do it before?”

“Don’t you remember?” Andras asks.

“No! Jesus, no!” Sauda stands up and looks at him. “That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time. I remember nothing. I’ve repressed it. To Demons, it’s no big deal, just another death, but at that point I was still wholly human. A human toddler with a fragile mind. I don’t remember anything.”

“Sometimes we forget that you’re half human,” Kang Dae breathes, “We all assumed you just didn’t want to talk about it, so you would say that you didn’t remember. But you really don’t?”